


Deadboy

by CaitlinOfMars



Category: Block B
Genre: Dark, Eventual Fluff, Hitmen, M/M, Violence, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitlinOfMars/pseuds/CaitlinOfMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the worst of people need saviours... (U-Kwon/B-Bomb)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This story is quite dark, possibly the darkest thing I've ever written. I've never written scenes like the following before, so apologies if any sections seem disjointed and don't really flow. I tried my best T_T.
> 
> It will be chaptered, but if you don't like slash or complicated relationship stuff, just read the first chapter and treat it as a One-Shot. :D
> 
> I'll attempt to keep the pace up; I have a habit of trawling through scenes really slowly, and dragging numerous days out over chapters. Hopefully, that won't happen here. You can hit me if it does.

The bar was dirty, dark smoke coiling through the air and licking against the ceiling from the numerous cigars clutched between drunken fingers. The floor was littered with cigarette butts, shreds of paper and god knows what else, sticky with spilt alcohol and what could possibly be blood.

Yukwon eyed the man from his place at the bar, ignoring the rowdy, drunken shouts of the group of men to his right. It was too loud in here- too loud, too dark, too small, and definitely not somewhere he would go be choice. He had no other option, though, he was here on _business_ ; business that included the recipient of his watchful gaze.

He watched as the pot-bellied, middle aged man relaxed in the corner of a booth, his cheap polyester work shirt undone at the first three buttons and tie hanging loosely around his shoulders. Yukwon sighed to himself; these men were all the same. They entered a scene, fucked around a bit, and left, not caring for the damage they'd done. They were the city's protectors, but the city's downfall, too. That's why they had to go.

Yukwon pushed himself up from his place at the bar, confident in getting his work finished early for tonight. He didn't even have to think about this one, it was far too easy.

As he approached his target, Yukwon began stumbling slightly, blinking rapidly as if he really was drunk. Letting out a small sigh, he settled himself on the edge of the booth's table, running a hand clumsily though his hair. He heard the man make a disgruntled sound behind him, and turned around, making sure his body looked heavy and weary.

"Sorry, man." Yukwon added a slight slur to the words. He needed to be slightly drunk, not completely inebriated. The target would never take his seriously if he over-acted. "Just needed a sit down for a second."

Yukwon turned back, not caring for the man's reply.

And so the game begins.

Over the timescale of a minute, Yukwon eased himself off the table and onto the couch opposite his prey, lolling his head back as if it he was too dizzy to keep it upright. Out of the corner of his eye, he found that his target was no longer watching him, and was staring intently at the beer clutched in his hand instead. Yukwon scrutinised him, watching the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his eyes kept darting from his bottle, to the door, and back again. He was nervous, he was sad, he knew he'd screwed up. The target was vulnerable, and this was Yukwon's time to strike.

He brushed his hand once more through his red hair, before lifting his head again and focusing his eyes on the policeman. This movement startled the target slightly, and he looked up at Yukwon with wary eyes. Yukwon just smiled lazily, easing the man with a facade of drunken sleepiness, and watching as his prey subconsciously dropped a hand to the table. From here, Yukwon could see the other man's wallet dangling out of the pocket of his jacket, which was slung across the seat, and decided that a little extra money couldn't hurt if he was getting paid for this anyway.

"I'll tell you what," Yukwon began, waiting until the silent cop's eyes had focused solely on him. Smiling, Yukwon dragged a pack of playing cards out of his pocket, and spread them out on the table. He glanced back up at his target. "How about we play a little game?"

He watched as the middle-aged man eyed the cards on the table, leaning forward on his elbows so that he was closer to Yukwon.

"What kind of game?" God, the man was more inebriated than he'd thought. His voice slurred, messy and low, and his mouth was set in a hard line.

Yukwon just flashed another one of his infamous smiles. He was a charmer, really, that's how he worked. Yukwon pulled out all four aces and one jack from the pile, before pocketing the rest. He lay them out, face-up, on the table in front of the man.

"This one normally goes badly for me." He lied, ducking his head sheepishly. Make them think they have a chance, make them think they can't lose.

The prey continued staring down at the cards, gesturing slightly for Yukwon to continue.

"I'm going to turn these over and shuffle them, and all you have to do is pick one. If it's an ace, then you win. If it's the jack, then I win. Like I said, this normally goes badly for me." Yukwon chuckled again as he explained, sliding the cards closer to the cop. He was a policeman, even while drunk, he knew what he was doing.

The man slowly picked the cards up, turning them over and over checking for validity. Once he was satisfied, he handed them back over.

"Okay, let's play."

Yukwon grinned. He'd caught him already.

It started slowly, the policeman only betting small amounts of money. Yukwon paid him duly, looking with slight sadness at the money coming out of his own wallet. It didn't matter though; he'd have it back by the end of tonight, plus interest.

The target won. They played again, he won again. This continued, money gradually increasing as the man become more and more confident. Now, it was onto step three.

"Right." Yukwon began. The man looked at him expectantly, patting his now bulging wallet. "I need to go and run an errand for a bit, but why don't we pick this back up after?"

The man paused, before nodding with a smirk. "Sure, man."

Yukwon let his eyes wander to the door, feeling the man's do the same, and waiting for his target's alcohol-soaked brain to catch up with him. At the hurried, "Wait!", Yukwon turned back to face him.

The man looked worried.

"How about we finish this game at my place?"

Yukwon almost laughed; that was almost script-perfect. How many times had he heard that now? Damn, these cops really were too predictable. Too scared, too worried about their reputation to be seen gambling seriously outside or in a bar.

"Yeah, okay." The redhead agreed, shrugging nonchalantly as he slipped the five cards back into his pocket before standing up. The man scribbled his address down on a dirty napkin, handing it to Yukwon who smiled once before leaving.

This really was going to be easy, huh.

\-------

One hour later, Yukwon arrived at the poor cops house, knocking heavily on the dilapidated door. This man lived alone in a detached house. Briefly, Yukwon wondered why his Boss hyungs were being so nice to him with this one, before the door swung open and he was ushered in with a grunt.

The two men settled in the living room, cards spread on the coffee table in front of them. He could cut the whole thing short right now, if he wanted too. There was really no way Yukwon was coming out of this situation as the loser, but he had never been one for just 'taking'. No, Yukwon liked to _win_ his battles; watching the despair on the targets face as they lost everything.

The game continued eagerly, the cop becoming more and more cocky as he won more and more money. Slowly, the amount he gambled was increasing, the poor man truly believing that he was invincible.

₩50 was bet

A win for the target.

₩100 was bet.

A win for the target.

₩1000 was bet.

A win for the target.

Yukwon decided to put the penultimate stages of his plan into progress.

"You're too good at this." He pouted, suppressing the urge to gag at the target's booming, hiccuping laugh. "But I'll tell you what. How about, this time, we bet a million on it?"

The man stopped laughing and frowned, but Yukwon had him now. This guy was one of the top police on the force in this area, and was actually infamous around the backstreets for boasting about his income. Of course he had one million won, and of course he was going to gamble it.

"Okay." The man's eyes flashed onto the cards in front of him, then to Yukwon's near-empty wallet lying next to it. The redhead gave a smirk.

He shuffled, laid them out, and the man chose with a self-assured laugh.

But when Yukwon turned it over, the pompous face of the jack greeted him, and the laugh transformed into an enraged yell.

"WHAT?!"

He wasn't going to say that people were fools, but... yeah, people were fools. They got scammed and cheated out of cash far too easily. Yukwon stood, taking back his cards and wallet and pocketing them again. However, his hand lingered there this time, fingers running over smooth metal.

"Pay up," Any trace of his act was gone now, and the signature 'The Cat' smirk was firmly in place. "Or I'll **make** you pay."

He saw the man's eyes widen, darting to where Yukwon's arm was still behind his back. The cop's hand slowly inched to where his handgun would be on his belt, but his fingers ended up fruitlessly scraping at the plastic holster. The gun had been removed hours ago, when the man was dazed and heavily drunk, and Yukwon was prepared.

The Cat followed as the policeman shakily got to his feet, keeping a steady pace behind him as he trudged up the stairs. Turning into a bedroom, the prey opened a drawer and pulled out a wad of bills. Stupid policeman, too worried about identity fraud to keep the majority of his cash in a bank.

Yukwon took the money, slipping it inside his jacket pocket, before he turned deftly and pulled out his beloved gun. The cop staggered back, legs hitting the bed-frame and almost collapsing under him, and The Cat laughed as he saw the now-sober man begin to tremble.

"Honestly, I've had a lot of fun tonight." Yukwon admitted. "You've been perfect, believe me."

The man's eyes were glassy with fear, darting from the end of the gun to Yukwon's face. He let out a shaking breath.

"W-who are you?"

Yukwon laughed again, flicking the safety catch off the gun causing the policeman to gulp.

"They call me The Cat-"

He flexed his finger over the trigger, watching wide, bloodshot eyes follow the small movement.

"-so I guess that makes you the mouse."

He savoured the look of sheer terror on the middle-aged man's face, before grinning and pulling the trigger.

A loud bang, a low scream, and a flash of blood.

That was all that happened before Yukwon sauntered calmly out of the derelict building and back into the fresh night air.

He knew he'd get caught one day, and he knew it definitely wasn't going to be pleasant, but all of this was too fun to stop.

He was a hitman; an assassin, if you will. It had it's ups and downs, but, as Kim 'The Cat' Yukwon thought about the pay he was about to receive, he decided that there really was no other life for him.


	2. The Meeting

All Yukwon’s life consisted of lately was waiting around nondescript social places for marks. It was a coffee shop this time, dark and deserted in the early morning, and the gentle whir of the machines was his only company. A light was dying somewhere overhead, flickering fruitlessly as it struggled to burn the last of its energy.

This target was different. The Boss hyungs had contacted him with a special commission; a young man, around Yukwon’s own age, had caused a bit of a stir in the inner circles of the organization and needed to be eliminated. The pay was high, so Yukwon was more than happy to help.

Idly picking at the stuffing from his chair at the back of the room, he watched the door closely- cat-like eyes picking up every tiny movement. According to his contact, the target should be arriving any minute...

...now.

There was a jingle of rusted metal as the door swung open, and a tall, raven-haired man sauntered in.

Yukwon assessed his prey, much like the big cat he was. This man was tall and young, his clothes fitted and stylish. He had a confident, cool and calm exterior, and if he realised his life was about to be cut short, he was doing a remarkable job of not showing it.

This one was clever. Yukwon could deduce that from the way his eyes darted around the room, surveying his surroundings as he seated himself at a stood by the counter. The target’s eyes flashed briefly over Yukwon’s, once, twice, before settling on the barista as he took his order.

The Cat shifted, pulling the phone out of his pocket and comparing the contact’s photo with the mark in front of him. Perfect match. It was time to move.

He got up from his seat slowly, not wanting to startle the target in his sights, and made his way over to the counter. Yukwon debated on choosing the stool furthest away from the prey’s, to reduce suspicion levels, but the short eye contact previously had seemed too much like an invitation to ignore, and so he shrugged before hopping up onto the seat next to the mark. Something about this situation, the way the target didn’t even bat an eyelid in Yukwon’s direction, was unsettling the hitman slightly.

It was almost as if he knew Yukwon’s purpose here;

Knew he was going to die.

The killer settled his elbows on the wood, watching the target in his peripheral vision. The black-haired boy was staring intently at his cup, swirling the steaming liquid around idly. Nothing clicked. This guy was too relaxed, too sure of himself. Nothing made sense. Normally his marks were bustling, stupid fools who’d messed up society in some way through terrible policing, but this one was... well, Yukwon could almost call him _serene_.

His reverie was interrupted by a low voice, smooth and serious.

“I know why you’re here.”

The Cat rolled this around his brain for awhile, eyes still trained on the counter. Finally, he replied with a sigh.

“I didn’t doubt that.”

The two were enveloped in silence again, but now a barrier had been crossed, and there was no going back. The barista had disappeared into the back room, and the target seemed to find this an opportune moment to speak again.

“Is it always this hard?” The man’s voice lowered a few decibels, the tone soft and melodic to Yukwon’s ears. My, this mark really _was_ different.

It also didn’t help that Yukwon had no idea what he was on about.

“What?”

The target finally turned to face him, and out of the corner of his eye, the hitman assessed his expression. Surprisingly, no traces of anguish or sorrow were found.

“Killing someone, is it always this hard?”

Yukwon’s brows furrowed slightly, but not enough that the target would notice. Still, the killer really didn’t know what this mark was talking about, or who he was referring to.

“Killing someone is never hard.” He replied after a while, his voice careful and moderated, eyes watching the door the barista had disappeared through. The prey seemed to think over this, but he knew better than to retaliate this time. Clever, clever boy.

Suddenly, the dark-haired man jumped down off his stool, and Yukwon’s muscles tensed. Sharp motions from his targets were never good, and they always spelled trouble, no matter what the circumstance was. Yukwon finally allowed himself a direct glance at the mark, only to find a small smile adorning his undoubtedly handsome face. The target was _smiling_. He knew he was going to die, and he was smiling. Yep, sudden movements always spelled trouble.

“Hey, Mr. Hitman.” The target called softly.

Yukwon flashed an eyebrow in response.

“I’ll see you around.”

Then, he was backing out of the door, still smiling and oozing charisma. The most surprising thing, however, was that Yukwon simply _let. him. go._

He wasn’t stupid though. No, he knew he could have stopped the man if he’d wanted to. The truth was, he didn’t even plan on making an attack today. No, it was too soon, too sudden, too public.

He’d got what he came for, anyway.

 

\-------

 

The mark didn’t stay true to his word: He didn’t end up seeing The Cat ‘around’. But Yukwon saw him.

Watching from rooftops was always considered such a stupidly stereotypical thing to do, but sometimes it was the best way to gain information, and research into a mark was probably one of Yukwon’s favourite things about a hit. It may be a boring trawl at first, but it made the end result so much more satisfying. Then, the death could be executed _properly_ , involving something the target was close to, something the target trusted. Quick 5-second shoot-and-run’s were fun too, but there was nothing like the satisfaction of observing a mark’s face as their world crumbled before their eyes, immediately before being put to death. 

That’s why Yukwon always watched, always waited, always judged. He was deciphering, from their interactions and body language, the best murder technique.

Apparently, this mark’s weakness was _people_.

He’d caused a stir, Yukwon remembered being told that. As he observed from a rooftop nearby, it was easy to see how the man could have penetrated into the inner, secret part of the organization: He was charismatic, he was friendly, he had the aura of someone to be trusted. Even the hardest Boss, the coldest senior, would have all of their hard-worn, hard-built walls utterly obliterated by a few words from the black-haired man’s mouth.

But not Yukwon, no, he’d never give in.

That’s why he waited; hours turning into days, days turning into weeks, for the right moment to strike. It was then that he realised his current method would never work.

Popularity. Popularity was the downfall of any hitman. If a mark had popularity, then more people were likely to miss him, and the more upset civilians, the more the police strived to find the killer. Yukwon knew that the police were fools, but they weren’t fools to obvious signs. If he chose to strike now, he’d be incarcerated before he even knew which way was up.

There was no doubt that the mark had told people about Yukwon, hell, there may even be people _hunting_ Yukwon, and so an unexplained death would no doubt be solved pretty quickly- with all fingers pointing towards him. The killer thought, enjoying the feeling of taking time over a case. He loved things like this; scenarios that were tricky, difficult, hard to read, and involved more extensive planning and plotting than others. He enjoyed getting inside the hit’s mind, and slowly destroying them from the inside out. When people asked why he’d become a hitman, of all the jobs out there... well... Yukwon would spit on their shoes and walk away, but in his mind he’d reply that he loved the thrill of a chase. He loved the excitement, he loved the satisfaction, and he loved the money.

Still, there was no such thing as getting paid for an unexecuted hit, so once Yukwon had made up his mind about what he was going to do, he set about putting his plan into action.

The plan this time?

To get closer to his mark. Almost, dare he say it, like a _friend_.


	3. The Information

The mark wasn't hard to find, no, Yukwon knew his habits well enough by now to know what he did and where. All it took was a bit of waiting, a bit of thinking, and suddenly everything was being put into motion.    
   
The middle of a park was the location this time. It was summer, midday, and the grassy expanses were filled with picnic blankets and couples sharing ice cream. It was too light, too happy, too disgusting- the atmosphere overflowing with a sickening effervescence.

Yukwon was nothing short of a master of disguise however, so, sitting there on a bench dressed casually in shorts and a t-shirt, he could have passed as a careless civilian. He looked friendly and open; just another young man out enjoying the sunshine.

The mark knew differently.

“You’re out in the open for once.”

It wasn't a question, and Yukwon could see the smooth lines of the dark-haired boy’s face settled into a serious frown as he eased himself onto the bench next to the killer.

“Well observed.”

Keeping his plan in mind, Yukwon turned to face the target with a small, disarming smile, which was noticed and reciprocated surprisingly swiftly.

“May I ask why?” His voice was careful, moderated, wary. That wouldn't do.

“You may, but I don’t know what my answer would be.”

The target smiled again, wider, and crossed his arms over his chest. He seemed to be relaxing, amused at some inner comment he had made as his lips turned into a smirk. There was a pause of silence, the sounds of the busy lawns ringing around the two.

“Yukwon, Kim Yukwon.”

“Sorry?”

Yukwon cocked his head to the side, an easy grin forming on his lips.

“My name.” He watched as various emotions flashed over the mark’s face; predominantly surprise and happiness, but with the barest flicker of concern.

“Well, they call me B-Bomb, but I suppose you already know that’s not my real name.”

Yukwon hadn't known the pseudonym, but he kept quiet all the same.

“Lee Minhyuk. I suppose its a pleasure to meet you, Mr Kim.” The target, or ‘ _Minhyuk_ ’, grinned at this, offering his hand and bowing in respect.

It was ridiculous. It seemed he was forgetting that Yukwon was an _assassin_ , or, more importantly, the man who was going to inevitably cut his life short. The amount of respect on display from the young man was absolutely fascinating.

“Just call me Yukwon, formalities won’t be necessary here.” The Cat turned his body to face Minhyuk, noticing the genuinely contented grin on his target’s face. This was good. As information collections go, this simple introduction had offered up quite a few clues into the workings of this mark’s mind.

"Are you here to kill me, Yukwon?" Surprisingly, the target's smile didn't look out of place as his lips worked around that sentence, and he seemed to regard the killer with some sort of guarded amusement. Yukwon kept silent, watching the mark. People were fools, but they weren't stupid- especially not this mysterious boy. When Minhyuk seemed to wait for an answer, The Cat rolled his eyes.

"Seriously? You think I'd kill you here?" He gestured at the scenery around himself. Minhyuk shrugged.

"I would've thought it was too public, but who knows what you assassin types can do these days, huh?" He leant back against the bench, pushing his hands into the pockets on his jeans.

Yukwon had to ask, it had been gnawing at his brain ever since he first spoke to the target.

"Is everything a joke to you?" The hitman asked, not angrily, just a hint of wear in his voice. Minhyuk raised an eyebrow.

"Not everything; suicides aren't a joke, fires aren't a joke, illnesses aren't a joke-"

"How about your own death? Do you find that funny?" Yukwon cut across his reasoning, studying the black-haired man's reactions closely. The mark just grinned.

"I like you, Yukwon." He stood up, pulling a small card out of his pocket and handing it to the killer. "Feel free to call me."

Yukwon stared down at the smooth white background, Minhyuk's name and telephone number printed in jet black ink. No adornments, no other contact details.

By the time he looked back up, Minhyuk was already walking away.

Not so fast.

"Got somewhere to be?" Yukwon called across the grass, watching as Minhyuk turned back with a grin.

"Why don't you follow me? I understand you've been doing that a lot lately, anyway."

\-------

Shamelessly, Yukwon did end up following him, and, equally shamelessly, Minhyuk led him to the coffee shop wherein they had their first encounter.

There was something still a bit unsettling about this target, in Yukwon's mind. It was as if he'd expected that conversation in the park, expected Yukwon to follow him like a lost puppy. This is what drew the killer in; made him crave for more and more information about this guy in an attempt to figure out what made him tick. The excitement was like nicotine; burning down into his bloodstream and hooking him in it's addictive power.

"Thought I'd go back to the origin." Minhyuk shrugged as he took a stool at the counter again, Yukwon seating himself next to him. The barista bustled forward to take their orders, but Minhyuk sent him away with a lazy hand gesture. He leant an elbow on the wood, turning to face The Cat.

"Tell me about yourself." The boy's pale lips curved into a half-smile, an eyebrow arched delicately as he observed Yukwon's expression. The hitman ran a hand through his hair, pushing the unruly strands back into some sort of order, before he faced his target with amusement.

"Am I that interesting?"

Minhyuk smirked, easing his phone out of his pocket and placing it on the counter in front of him. He spun the device once, before stopping it with his index finger.

"You think you're not?" His cool charisma was impenetrable, eyes calm and ever soft. There was a hard quality to his apparent likeable personality, but, somehow, that just seemed to make him more friendly. He was popular because he was _honest_ \- Yukwon could see that now.

"You don't want to know about me." Yukwon knew this was the truth, he could see it in the target's eyes. Minhyuk looked like he could care less who Yukwon was, but it was concealing something. This conversation was seeming more and more like a battle of wits as time passed.

"Come on, you offer up one little tiny morsel of your life, and I'll give you the information you so desperately crave." At this, Minhyuk's smirk turned sharp, his eyes becoming scarily focused. Yukwon forced himself not to dwell on this for now, and there was a pause as the killer formulated a reply.

"I don't want information." 

The laugh that left the target's throat was anything but vulnerable.

"And yet, when I say 'follow', you come running."

An uneasy feeling settled itself into Yukwon's stomach. It seemed that he had severely underestimated the capabilities of this target. He was a far cry from the foolish, stupid marks the killer was used to. He'd known Yukwon was his killer, he'd known Yukwon had been watching him, and now he knew that Yukwon wanted information.

The hitman had to find out the source of this knowledge, or his whole plan could be put to waste.

The Cat raised an eyebrow at his target, an amused smirk playing about his lips.

"You're good."

He pulled Minhyuk's phone towards himself, and, surprisingly, the mark made no move to stop him. Instead of turning it on, however, Yukwon studied the back of the device, eyes scouring over the smooth surface. It was expensive; a new model released just weeks prior, and a quick glance at the target's clothes confirmed that he was wealthy. Maybe he was paying for this information...

But who the hell had it in the first place?

"Thank you. That means more coming from a calculated killer."

Yukwon smiled down at the device in his hands, listening to the mindless chatter of the customers in the shop. Finally, he looked up to meet Minhyuk's gaze.

"I came into this profession by choice. I had a good home life, my parents were lovely, and I did well in school. This has always been my calling, though." Yukwon laid that tiny bit of history bare, and watched as Minhyuk carefully absorbed every word. The raven-haired man smirked, before he reached over and gently prised his phone back out of Yukwon's grip. He unlocked it, and the harsh glare of the screen illuminated his features for a few seconds.

"Well, Yukwon," Minhyuk began, looking at the killer with earnest eyes. He slid his phone back over, and Yukwon glanced down to what he was being shown. "It seems like you have a traitor in your organisation."

Text's filled the tiny device's screen; each one detailing a minuscule part of Yukwon's carefully formulated plan. Eyes wide, the killer glanced at the name, and froze.

It was the name of his best friend.


	4. The Confrontation

This was serious.

No, it was more than serious. It was potentially disastrous. It could have ruined the hit, it could have sent everything pear-shaped, and ultimately, it could have got Yukwon himself murdered.

The Cat followed the all-too familiar route through alleyways and side streets, stopping at the edge of the forest and waiting for his eyes to pick out the small path from the gloom. He spotted it, just to the left of the oak tree, and set off running.

He didn't have to make enquiries as to the traitor's whereabouts. This was his best friend, and if an assassin like himself allowed someone to get close to him, it was either for a hit, or the person was deemed trustworthy. He'd committed the man's traits and thought processes to memory by now, and if it served him correctly, he'd be arriving at his destination any minute.

Suddenly the hut came into view, and Yukwon slowed his pace. It was a dilapidated building; the corrugated metal of the roof bent, rusted, and caving inwards. It looked unhappy, as if the moulded wooden door and smashed-out windows had drooped into an expression of perpetual sadness at being isolated for so long. Setting his mouth into a hard line, he pushed his way inside.

He spotted Jaehyo in the kitchen, no doubt cleaning himself up after a mission, and the other man turned to him with a smile.

"Oh hey, Yukwon!"

But the killer was in no mood for pleasant greetings, and before Jaehyo could register what was happening, his back was being slammed hard against the wall.

"What the **fuck** do you think you're doing?!" The Cat hissed, more angry than he could ever remember being before. The man's eyes widened, and his fingers scraped along the wall in an attempt to get away.

"What're you on about, man?" Jaehyo looked, if anything, annoyed at best. He was a footsoldier for the organisation, they were trained not to react in situations like this. This didn't stop Yukwon from giving him hell.

"You know damn well what! Or do I have to jog your memory?" Yukwon's voice was low, strained and controlled. It was taking everything he had not to snap the other man's neck then and there. He leant in, threateningly close to Jaehyo's ear. "The confidential information? The texts _to my mark_?!"

He pulled back to see the realisation dawn on the footsoldier's face, and _there_ it was. There was the flicker of terror Yukwon had been waiting for.

"Now, would you kindly tell me what the fuck you're playing at?" The Cat spoke again, pressing the other man's shoulders hard into the wall. Jaehyo kicked out, but Yukwon was faster. The killer dodged the leg, simultaneously unsheathing a knife from the holster at his belt. He pressed harder against his captive, blade held just underneath Jaehyo's chin. The other man gulped, eyes darting from Yukwon, to the door just behind him.

Now he was panicking.

"I-I didn't mean to. He was just so... _understanding_. So threatening. He really got inside my head, made me realise things, and told me that helping him was the only way." Jaehyo explained hesitantly, voice cracking a little before he composed himself. 

"Only way to do what? What did you realise?" Yukwon pressed the blade against Jaehyo's throat, enough to dent the skin, but not break it.

He was furious. He'd trusted this man; he trusted him with confidential information that must never be retold, yet every single thing had been recounted to his _victim_. Suddenly months of planning went down the drain, useless, since Minhyuk knew all his moves already.

Jaehyo didn't answer, so Yukwon pressed the knife harder. Skin gave way at one point, and the killer watched as a droplet of blood slid down the traitor’s neck.

"What was revealing information the only way to do?" Yukwon repeated, slow and clear, so there were no chances of Jaehyo mishearing him.

The older man stared at Yukwon's arm, the one clutching the knife, before glancing back up at the killer's eyes. Finally, he sighed in defeat.

"It was the only way... the only way to save you."

Yukwon growled, pushing off Jaehyo and spinning around in disgust. He heard the footsoldier attempt to make a move behind him, so he flung the knife back in aggravation. It embedded in the wall beside the man's head, and Jaehyo suddenly wasn't so keen on getting away.

"I don't need _saving_." The word left a foul taste in the killer's mouth, so he spat on the floor to clear it. He didn't need a fucking saint; he was an assassin. Save him from what, anyway? Himself? The organisation? _Minhyuk_? Killing was his job- there was no point trying to achieve him some sort of rebirth, and the organisation was pretty damn respectable so far. The only thing left was his mark, and if Jaehyo was worried about Minhyuk, then he really didn't know Yukwon well enough.

Yukwon had things well under control. Or he had, until Jaehyo caused things to go to shit.

“K-kwon, you don’t understand!” He heard Jaehyo splutter from behind him, and froze when a hand landed on his shoulder. “He lives up to his name, he really does. He keeps himself contained, silent and thoughtful, until suddenly there’s mass destruction. He explodes, and anything that stands in his way is brought crashing down.”

Yukwon gritted his teeth, “Stop talking riddles.”

“But you don’t get it!” Jaehyo’s voice was raised, and Yukwon spun around to find the older man in a state of panicked aggression. “He’s dangerous. B-Bomb. So dangerous, you don’t even know!”

“And you do?!” Yukwon was tired of this repetition. He tugged the knife out of the wall and returned it to it’s holster, regarding Jaehyo with threatening eyes. The footsoldier gulped visibly, his adam’s apple bobbing with the reflex, and he nodded solemnly.

So Minhyuk was dangerous. Really, Yukwon had guessed that himself after their first conversation. No man that relaxed about death ever has positive motives. But something about what Jaehyo had said made him stop and think. _B-Bomb_. Yukwon had never really stopped to consider the nickname before, and that realisation almost made him want use his knife on himself. Nicknames are intimate- they either outline your best characteristics, or ridicule your worst. Even if a Boss hyung fabricated that nickname for Minhyuk, as Yukwon’s own boss had done, he still would have had to know enough about the raven-haired man to assign it as his name.

B-Bomb.

_’He explodes, and anything that stands in his way is brought crashing down’._

Yukwon turned back to Jaehyo, surprisingly content with the information he’d been given, and in a much more forgiving mood than before. That doesn’t mean he can’t have a tiny bit of fun, though.

“So, traitor.” Yukwon purred, pacing forward to once again block the other man against the wall. Jaehyo bit his lip at the word, fidgeting under The Cat’s gaze. “Should I be forgiving? Or should I go tell Zico about this?”

This had Jaehyo scared, and the older man froze where he stood. His eyes searched Yukwon’s, desperate to know if he was serious or not. A chuckle escaped the killer’s lips, but to Jaehyo, it sounded more like a death sentence.

“Come on Kwon, I was jus-” He was interrupted by a flash of metal as the knife made a reappearance, and his eyes drifted to where The Cat was idly spinning it between his fingers. “-Just trying to help! Y-you know I wouldn’t... I’m not a... I’m not.”

Yukwon arched an eyebrow at this, “Oh really? You’re not a traitor? I believe you released confidential information about a hit. What’s that the definition of, hmm?”

There was a pause, where Jaehyo’s eyes were fixed on Yukwon’s, and the killer was absolutely in his element. It had been a slow few weeks information collecting, and this was _way_ more fun.

“A-a traitor.” Jaehyo gave up, and Yukwon laughed, pocketing the knife once again and savouring the flood of relief on the footsoldier’s face.

“Zico won’t know, this time.” Yukwon turned to walk away, but threw a threatening glance over his shoulder. “But you should know: You try any more of this shit? I won’t even be merciful enough to kill you myself, and _everyone_ knows what the dreaded Underboss does to his victims.”

Walking out of the hut, Yukwon didn’t even look back. He’d seen the expression Zico inspired on people enough times to have committed it to memory.

Because in an organization, its always best to have more than one highly trained assassin.


	5. The Plan B

It was almost a week before Yukwon felt ready to advance again.

It wasn’t particularly difficult, but it was nerve-racking, and the killer wasn’t sure he felt entirely comfortable now more things were out in the open. The mark knew his previous plan, every detail, right down to the method execution. That’s why, when Yukwon sent a text to Minhyuk, he was surprised when he got a reply. Or, more specifically, he was surprised the reply stated that the mark was willing to meet Yukwon.

Alone.

The Cat smiled to himself once he reached the small car garage- abandoned years ago due to insufficient funds- and spotted his mark already there. Minhyuk was leaning against a rusted metal workbench, head lolling back with boredom, and looking for all the world like had a thousand better places to be. Yukwon steeled his countenance, relaxed his gait, and walked in.

“You have courage, Mr Killer.” Minhyuk spoke, eyes still focused on the wires running the length of the ceiling and not even bothering to look Yukwon in the eye.

“It’s one of my more admirable traits.” Yukwon replied nonchalantly, lifting himself up onto the bench next to his target. The black-haired man smiled, before finally bringing his eyes down to meet The Cat’s.

“I’m beginning to see that.” The other man’s voice was so quiet for a moment, hardly a murmur, and Yukwon wondered for a second if he had heard that right. Scoffing internally, he brushed this away. He was a hitman; he could always trust his senses.

There was a pause of silence, before Minhyuk pushed himself away from the bench and turned, so that he was standing right in front of the killer. In the back of his mind, Yukwon realised that this felt akin to being cornered, but he disregarded this ridiculous notion.

“I’m beginning to wonder if you’ll ever actually kill me.” The arch of a delicate eyebrow, the crossing of arms over a designer-clad chest, the stare that threatened to pin Yukwon with its intensity. The killer smirked.

“Hm, don’t provoke me.” It was a joke, a light-hearted threat, but one that normally created fear in anyone it was directed at. Minhyuk, however, just smirked right back.

“Why? In case you get angry and stab me where I stand?”

The Cat shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Exactly, and then maybe you’ll stop asking about your execution date.”

The raven-haired man let out a laugh, light and melodic, that was certainly not something that should have been caused by an assassin.

“You know, I am curious, though. Not even your previous plan stated when you were planning on making the hit.” Minhyuk moved closer, just a fraction, but enough to get Yukwon’s brain racing about possible escape routes. The killer raised an eyebrow, half wondering about the apparent fearlessness his mark was displaying, half concerned with the slowly decreasing distance between them. 

“And you think I’ll actually tell you something like that? Why?” It wasn’t a dismissal, Yukwon was genuinely curious as to why this mysterious boy was so adamant. Perhaps it was an underlying fear of death, a willingness to be prepared, or perhaps Minhyuk was just a fool.

The target shrugged, “Maybe because you trust me now.”

Yukwon had to stop himself from balking at the statement.

“Where on **earth** did you get that idea?”

Minhyuk laughed again, softly, taking another step closer into Yukwon’s personal space. The killer fought to stand his ground and not go scrabbling back over the workbench.

“Think about it. You’re an assassin, a hitman, you should understand these things.” The raven-haired boy smirked. At the absence of an answer from the killer, Minhyuk rolled his eyes.

“You contact me, on a phone number where there’s no substantial proof that it belongs to me. By text, too. A text that, with the right technology, is all-too easy to trace.” He explained, cocking a head to the side. “Tell me again that you don’t trust me, and I won’t even try to believe it.”

Suddenly, a hand rested on Yukwon’s shoulder, lightly, the touch barely there, and he tensed up. This was physical contact, something Yukwon tended not to condone. It meant intimacy, it meant a relationship slightly more than just passing acquaintances. It indicated that he meant more to someone than Yukwon ever wanted to mean to anyone.

And somewhere, deep inside him, there was the smallest flicker of fear.

“You’re a hypocrite.” He reasoned back, attempting to extinguish the unwanted flame of terror, that was fanning itself inside his stomach, with an argument. “You agree to meet me at an abandoned building, alone, knowing full well that there’s every possibility I’ll kill you on sight.”

A chuckle, short and dangerous, escaped Minhyuk’s lips.

“How are you so sure I’m alone?” His fingers hooked around Yukwon’s shoulder, pressing ever-so-slightly into the bone.

Yukwon had an answer to this, and matched Minhyuk’s smirk with an equally malicious curve of his lips.

“I have my methods”

He had watched Minhyuk when he was gathering information for his now-useless plan. He knew the man was confident, or foolish, enough to go everywhere without some form of bodyguard. Seriously, this man was supposedly of great wealth, and his connections to the dark side of the city were obvious. A guy like him could have easily requested a bodyguard, or at the very least, a personal hitman.

The black-haired man laughed, and suddenly he was in Yukwon’s space entirely. Minhyuk’s other hand rested against the killer’s chest, and Yukwon tried not to flinch as the target leaned into his ear.

“Touché.” The word was drawled, honeyed, dark with what was either malicious intent or an attempt at seduction. Yukwon bit his lip hard to suppress a shiver.

Minhyuk pulled back, and a rush of cold air hit the front of Yukwon’s body as the other man’s heat was taken away. He had to stop this idiocy. He had to regain control.

He walked forward a pace, hand fisting loosely in the front of the mark’s expensive shirt. The target chuckled as he was pulled forward once again.

“Calling it even already?” Yukwon usually saved this voice for the more stubborn of his marks, coating every syllable with sugar and hints to an ulterior motive. This seemed work on Minhyuk, as Yukwon found his lower back colliding hard with the edge of the workbench. He peered up at the target, eyes narrowed and eyebrow raised.

Suddenly, his mark’s face turned serious, and it returned to its previous proximity to Yukwon’s ear.

“Until we meet again.” Hot breath ghosted over his skin as Minhyuk practically _exhaled_ the words against Yukwon’s neck.

The killer was all prepared to shove the invasive man back, when strong fingers fisted themselves in the back of his hair and, without warning, a soft touch was pressed against his jaw.

It took The Cat’s anxiety-soaked brain a few seconds to realise he’d just been _kissed_.

The soft laugh that filled Yukwon’s ears was low, relaxed, and as smoky as gunpowder, and when the killer regained his right mind, Minhyuk was gone.


	6. The Warning

Yukwon had said he wouldn’t go to Zico.

But that didn’t mean Zico wouldn’t go to him.

His bedroom door crashed open, startling Yukwon out of his slumber so violently that he was up and clutching his gun in a matter of seconds, finger poised just over the trigger and aimed at the doorway. Following the direction the gun’s nozzle was pointing in, he groaned when Zico’s shock of blonde hair came into view.

“What the hell is this I’m hearing?!” Zico’s voice was high, angry, strained, and marginally disappointed. Yukwon raised an eyebrow, reluctantly lowering his revolver because pointing guns at your superiors could never end well.

“What?”

“You know fucking well what!” Zico snarled, stalking over to the killer. His eyes were blazing, and the slightest twitch of fear began creeping through Yukwon’s veins.

When The Cat responded with silence, Zico growled low in his throat. “About you and the mark, _getting intimate_.”

Yukwon’s mouth fell open, and he almost choked on his own saliva.

“The fuck?!”

“You know Yukwon, I swear to God this better be part of your plan, cause I was of the belief that a guy like **you** doesn’t have feelings!” The Underboss hissed, tone deadly and serious, and for a second, Yukwon genuinely believed he really had done something wrong.

Before he remembered the absurdity of the situation.

“Back the fuck up a second! What do you mean ‘getting intimate’?!”

Zico frowned, eyebrows furrowed and he took a disarming step back once he realised that the killer really didn’t have a clue what he was on about.

“Kyung informed me that sources spotted you and the mark last week. Apparently, he had you cornered against a table, and, as Kyung so eloquently put it _’Kwon looked like he was five seconds from jumping that guys ass. And not in the delightfully stabby way’_.”

Yukwon arched an eyebrow, half from surprise at Kyung’s expression, half from surprise at the fact that the organization was now _spying_ on him. Without his consent.

This was not cool.

“Okay, first of all, I wasn’t five seconds from jumping him, I was five seconds from ripping his throat out with my teeth. I was completely under control.” This time it was Yukwon’s tone that hardened, and he fixed Zico with a stare that froze even the toughest of minds.

Zico, however, was more powerful than that. He tilted his head skeptically at the killer.

“Are you sure? Yukwon, in the organization, your name has been linked with a hatred for physical contact. You’ve been known to snap people’s necks if they so much as brush you lightly. Now you’re letting this guy, this _mark_ , so far into your personal space that he’s pressing himself against you.” Zico shook his head, “And you don’t think this is a cause for concern?”

Yukwon furrowed his eyebrows. “I can’t kill him yet. It’s not time.” He threw his gun down onto his bed, watching as it bounced once before settling. “The contact was threatening. We were having a sort of... verbal face-off.”

The blonde laughed, but not in amusement.

“So why do you keep touching your jaw? See, you’re doing it now.”

That’s when Yukwon realised that, as Zico had said, his fingertips were subconsciously brushing over the skin that still burned with the memory of the mark’s lips. He wrenched his hand down, furious with himself for letting the silly little touch get to him. Zico’s lips twisted into a wry smile, before he shrugged and took yet another step back from The Cat.

“Look, I don’t have a clue what’s going on with you, but this better be the worst of it. Any more incidents like this, and I’ll have half a mind to remove you from this hit, and go after him myself.”

Yukwon’s cheeks burned with displeasure and disappointment. He’d never had to receive a warning for a hit before, much less been removed from one. Biting his lip, Yukwon made a mental note not to let that stupid loss of control happen ever again.

Ever

 

\-------

 

Against his will, Yukwon found his thoughts plagued by the raven-haired man. He found fragmented memories of his heat, his fingertips curled around the killer’s shoulder, his touch hot and heavy on Yukwon’s chest, filling his mind when he should be planning the hit. He found himself obsessing over the recollection of Minhyuk’s lips against his skin when he should be make sure everything was perfect, that the murder would be done without a hitch.

He berated himself time and time again for letting a stupid little thing such as the feel of hot breath on his neck distract him from his work, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He lay awake at night replaying every single one of their meetings in his head, telling himself that he was merely searching for clues, when he was really memorising the line of the mark’s jaw. He saw Minhyuk in his mind’s eye; dark, solemn, seductive and gorgeous.

Yukwon wondered if this had been Minhyuk’s plan all along- to get inside his head, make him question whether he did have _feelings_ after all.

Well it didn’t work. It **couldn’t** work. This hit was crucial, it was important to the organization, and it paid highly. This man was way more important than all of the other stupid policemen he’d killed in his entire career, but sadly, he was also proving to be the trickiest. He’d already threatened Jaehyo into giving him information, he’d caused Yukwon to get a warning from his boss, and now he was stuck in the killer’s mind. The Cat realised that Minhyuk was beginning to gain an advantage on him here, and this worried him deeply.

It was the first time that Yukwon felt so unsure about a hit; the first time he felt that there was a possibility of him being outsmarted. He was always one step ahead before, but this mysterious boy was just full of surprises. He had the spine-chilling sense that Minhyuk knew something, or lots of things, that Yukwon didn’t.

There was no use waiting around figuring things out though, as no matter how hard Yukwon thought, nothing seemed to become any clearer. He thought he’d had Minhyuk figured out before; when he’d had the idea of using Minhyuk’s weakness to people to find out more information, but, even though that plan was now inactive, it seemed more like the raven-haired man was getting information out of _him_ \- not the other way around.

Yukwon needed the one-up, he needed to outsmart Minhyuk in such a way that his death would be the most satisfying things Yukwon had ever caused in his life. This boy, the one playing with Yukwon’s thoughts and feelings, was dangerous, and had to be eliminated in the most terrible way possible.

So Yukwon did something he’d never done before.

He waited for Minhyuk to come to him.


	7. The Game

He didn’t have to wait long.

Now, the killer seemed to spend a significant portion of his time in dark, smoky clubs, but not by choice. Every seconds he spent in a place like that was ordered by the organisation, planned meticulously by Yukwon’s perfectionist brain.

Not this time, though. This time, Yukwon just wanted an escape.

That’s why he was out in public, open, unprotected, and clouding his mind with strong liquor. That’s why he had no defenses up when a hand landed on his shoulder and a body slid into the stool next to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Yukwon saw the barman slide Minhyuk a glass, and the raven-haired man turned to face the killer.

“You come here often?”

Yukwon snorted a laugh into his glass.

“You sound like you’re trying to pick me up.” The Cat turned to Minhyuk with a smirk, and the black-haired man let out a short laugh. He felt the hand on his shoulder inch towards the exposed skin of Yukwon’s neck, and an involuntary shiver shocked through his body.

“Who says I’m not?”

The velvety tone resounded around Yukwon’s brain, and he had to bite his lip to suppress a blush.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. The killer had to reclaim control.

Yukwon looked back down at his drink, and the mark chuckled before sliding his hand off the killer’s shoulder.

“You know, Yukwon,” There was a pause, and The Cat held his breath as he waited for the boy to finish. “I like you”. The killer heard the smile in the mark’s voice, heard the soft thump as he set his glass down onto the bar. He forced himself not to be surprised at the comment and thought for a second.

“What do you mean?”

The mark took another sip of his drink, and as Yukwon turned to face him, he tried to ignore the shine the liquid left on Minhyuk’s bottom lip.

“You’re interesting, different, y’know?” The mark waved his hand about vaguely, and Yukwon felt a genuine smile tug at the corners of his lips. The killer was about to respond, when Minhyuk continued. “And you’re also the first of my killers to actually trust me.”

The smile faded as fast as it had come, and Yukwon sighed

“You’re still so sure about that.”

Minhyuk laughed, swirling the golden liquid around in his glass.

“Of course, and if I remember correctly, you never denied it.”

“I don’t trust you.” Were the first words that left Yukwon’s lips, and Minhyuk arched a delicate eyebrow.

“That right there, Yukwon, is denial. Come on, I can even prove it to you.

Yukwon pushed his drink aside, watching the other man warily.

“How?”

The mark smirked before easing himself off his bar stool. Goosebumps rose on Yukwon’s skin, and he fought to stand his ground as Minhyuk slid behind him.

“One; you leave your back unguarded when there’s no proof that I’m not carrying a weapon.” Warm fingers trailed down the back of Yukwon’s shirt, sending fire shooting through the killer’s veins at every contact point.

Yukwon gulped, and Minhyuk continued.

“Two,” The dark-haired boy drawled, and a sudden puff of hot air hit the back of the killer’s neck. “You let me this close to you.” Yukwon felt lips brush against the shell of his ear. “That’s not protocol, surely?”

The hitman sensed, silently willing the mark to just get the hell away from him. He gritted his teeth, forcing the words out through them.

“I never follow protocol.”

A low chuckle vibrated against the skin of Yukwon’s neck as he felt the mark’s lips inch closer. Hands, warm and heavy and solid, slid down to Yukwon’s waist.

“I can see that.” The words were barely a whisper, sending chills down the killer’s spine. “See, you trust me.”

The invasive palms slid down to the top of his thighs, and Yukwon squirmed away from the unwelcome warmth. His stomach twisted, and Yukwon had the unsettling realisation that the sensation was not due to fear.

“Three,” Minhyuk purred, and Yukwon slowly dipped his hand into his jacket pocket. The mark continued regardless. “You haven’t even registered that I might only be doing this...”

The mark paused as Yukwon turned unhurriedly on his stool to face him. Minhyuk seemed pleased with this development, and moved into the triangle Yukwon’s legs formed.

“...to distract you.” The man finished, hand pressing against Yukwon’s chest. The killer counted down silently as Minhyuk’s head began lowering into his personal space.

_Three..._

Yukwon could feel the man’s body heat, the scent of his expensive aftershave and the effects of strong alcohol fogging his brain.

_Two..._

The killer’s fingers closed around the object in his jacket pocket, smoothing fondly over the metal.

_One..._

Minhyuk was close now, pressing against him, whispers of breath ghosting over Yukwon’s cheeks and lips. He was too close, far, [i]far[/i] too close, but Yukwon had the upper hand here. He was in control.

_Now._

The knife was out of his pocket before Minhyuk could step back, but suddenly a tight grip closed around his wrist. Yukwon gasped as fingers pressed into bone, and glanced down at the blade between them. The mark had caught his hand as it thrust forward, knife-tip poised above Minhyuk’s thigh.

Fuck.

The mark stepped back, away from the killer, and breathed a deep sigh.

“It’s such a shame.” He shook his head, eyes focused on the knife and tightening his grip as Yukwon tried moving his arm. The killer watched, eyes wide with fear, as the mark used his free hand to pry the hilt from Yukwon’s fingers.

The hand on his wrist remained.

“Get off me.” The Cat growled low in his throat, all previous feelings now replaced with a burning hatred for the other man. Minhyuk spun the knife around his fingers, letting Yukwon’s arm fall back to his side.

“Just when we were getting along _so well _, too. I’ll tell you what, Mr Killer, I’m pretty disappointed.” The mark smirked.__

__Yukwon growled again, enticing a playful laugh from Minhyuk._ _

__“So you finally decided to kill me?”_ _

__The killer rolled his eyes. Of course that’s the first conclusion the mark would come to._ _

__“No.”_ _

__This surprised Minhyuk slightly, and he tilted his head to the side as he pocketed Yukwon’s knife._ _

__“No?”_ _

__“I finally decided to threaten you.”_ _

__Because really, he wasn’t going to make the hit today. He just wanted to injure, to startle a little, to make it known that the hitman wasn’t to be played with._ _

__But this mark was faster, smarter, and a deep-rooted concern began to ignite in Yukwon’s brain._ _

__Minhyuk smirked, grabbing his drink from the bar and finishing it in one gulp. When he stepped forward again, his breath reeked of whisky._ _

__“Don’t be cute, Yukwon. It doesn’t suit you.”_ _

__The killer hissed and shoved Minhyuk backwards, watching with slight satisfaction as the man stumbled and almost fell. He jumped off his barstool and stalked past the amused mark, pausing as he reached the doorway._ _

__“Don’t think you’ve won.”_ _

__“Oh believe me,” The raven-haired man leant against the bar, “I don’t. I’m just merely enjoying the game.”_ _

__

__\-------_ _

__

__The killer recieved a text the next day from the number on Minhyuk’s card._ _

_’I enjoyed our little meeting yesterday, Mr. Hitman. Why don’t we do it again? Besides, I have something of yours that I need to give back.’_

__Yukwon read the text through once, twice, three times, before he threw the device across the room._ _

__He didn’t care that there was no hidden meaning in the words. He didn’t care that Minhyuk wanted to see him again. He didn’t care that the black-haired man had his knife._ _

He cared that he’d been so _obvious_. He cared that Minhyuk had seen what he was doing, and stopped him. He cared that the mark now felt he was better than Yukwon, that he was _in control_ of Yukwon. 

__Nobody had control of Yukwon. Nobody. Not even the organisation._ _

__That’s why he decided to abandon every single rule he’d had drilled into his head when he joined. That’s why he decided to ignore every single _personal_ rule he’d made himself. That’s why he agreed to meet Minhyuk again, but not for a confrontation._ _

This time, he was really going in for the hit.


	8. The Hit

“You came.”

Yukwon turned as the words floated from the doorway, and he watched silently as Minhyuk entered the room.

“I did.”

It was yet another deserted location- an old house at the edge of the city that the organisation sometimes used as a hideaway- as public places were never suited to murder. As much as seeing Minhyuk provoked a fluttering feeling in his stomach, and as much as he felt his eyes linger a bit too long on the way his shirt clung to his torso, Yukwon was still tempted to shoot him then and there.

Why? Because he’d made a fool of Yukwon, and you _never_ make fun of a killer unless you’re incredibly stupid or have a deathwish.

“I was doubting it, to be honest. I thought you’d be too scared after last time.” Minhyuk’s smirk was sharp as he stopped, leaning casually against the wall of the hallway.

“You obviously don’t know me well enough.” The killer returned, standing his ground with his arms crossed over his chest. Minhyuk raised an eyebrow.

“We could fix that.”

Yukwon rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’d prefer it if we didn’t.”

This change in attitude visibly startled Minhyuk, before he realised something and laughed.

“What? Afraid I’ll foil any more of your murder attempts by getting too close to you?” His tone was light, but Yukwon could hear the poison underlying the words. The killer scoffed.

“Nope. Afraid that if you come any closer, I won’t be able to stop myself from shooting you.” Yukwon wasn’t playing around this time; he wasn’t looking to confuse, to tease. He was hoping to intimidate. Frighten, and then kill.

“Ah,” Minhyuk tilted his head to the side warily, “You’re carrying a gun? My, Yukwon, you’ve come prepared this time.”

The killer shifted his weight onto his other leg, hand slowly reaching behind his back. Suddenly, all playfulness disappeared from the mark’s face, and his lips turned into a frown. Without saying a word, he pushed himself up off the wall and walked back over to the door. Yukwon was all too ready to give chase when, instead of leaving through it, Minhyuk merely pushed the cold wood closed.

“So today’s the day, huh?” Minhyuk said after a pause, still facing away from the killer. Yukwon still said nothing, but he rested his hand on the gun handle sticking out of his back pocket. “The day you finally decide to kill me.”

The black-haired boy spun around just as the gun came out of Yukwon’s pocket, and the mark bit his lip, eyes fixed on the black metal in the killer’s hand.

“You’re good, I’ve said this before.” The hitman grinned, spinning the gun around his finger once before swapping it to his stronger hand. Minhyuk nodded, eyes still fixed on the deadly weapon.

“What? Scared of a bit of metal?” Yukwon’s laugh wasn’t friendly, by any stretch of the imagination, but it seemed to snap Minhyuk out of whatever trance he’d been in. The mark met Yukwon’s gaze, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“I wouldn’t say scared. More... concerned that you don’t know what you’re doing.” Minhyuk leant his back against the door, aiming for nonchalance, but Yukwon could see that it was just for protection. Ah, finally, he’d made the mark scared. If pulling out a gun was all it took, Yukwon was slightly surprised he hadn’t done it sooner.

“Believe me,” The killer brought the gun up as a test, aiming it just to Minhyuk’s left. He watched in delight as the mark bit his lip. “I know what I’m doing.”

Minhyuk took a hesitant step forward, defiantly, and a Yukwon felt a small sense of admiration. This mark was braver than most men with a gun pointed at them, Yukwon would admit that.

There was a beat of silence before the mark spoke again. “Hold on, let’s talk for a second.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” Yukwon rolled his eyes. “All we ever do is talk!”

“Yeah, okay, but I bet you want to know some things,” The mark bargained. “It would be a waste of information to just kill me, wouldn’t it?”

The killer thought for a second. He wasn’t paid to know things, he wasn’t paid to spy, he was paid to kill and only kill. However, this man was just so _interesting_. He’d threatened Jaehyo so badly that the footsoldier had betrayed his best friend, he’d stopped Yukwon so quickly the other night, and he’d actually wanted to know something about the killer’s life at one point. All of these added up to one question: _Why?_

Yukwon lowered the gun back to his side, tilting his head in question, and Minhyuk breathed a sigh of relief.

“What did you do to Jaehyo?” Were the next words out of the hitman’s mouth. Minhyuk frowned for a second, taking another uncertain step closer.

“We had a little incident.” Minhyuk smirked at the memory. “Years before you were even put on my case, there was a... scandal, to do with Jaehyo’s brother and I.”

Yukwon waited for him to continue, and the mark let out a short laugh.

“It ended badly, for his brother. Let’s just say there was a huge mess, a murder inquiry, and a couple of bodies found in the woods.”

Yukwon raised an eyebrow. So this mark _was_ dangerous. He’d heard from Jaehyo that his brother was dead, but the other man had revealed no further details on the subject. Yukwon was suddenly reminded of something his friend had said the day he confronted him about Minhyuk.

_’He explodes, and anything that stands in his way is brought crashing down.’_

“So what, once you heard that I was on your case, you threatened him into giving you information, knowing that he was still weak after his brother’s death and terribly afraid of you.” Yukwon guessed, and the mark grinned.

“Precisely.”

“That’s pretty heartless.” Yukwon felt the beginnings of anger spark in his stomach at the information about his friend, frowning at the man in front of him.

“That’s rich coming from a hitman.” An amused smirk adorned the mark’s face, and Yukwon watched as Minhyuk took one final step towards him. There was only a few feet between the two now, and Yukwon flexed his fingers warily around his gun. Yukwon suddenly thought of another question.

“Who do you work for? No one could commit that sort of crime and get away with it if they worked solo.”

Minhyuk ran a hand through his hair, looking away, and Yukwon gulped as his gaze was drawn to the mark’s flawless profile.

“Your little organisation never told you? What exactly _did_ they say about me?” The mark raised an eyebrow, fixing Yukwon with a piercing stare.

“Only that you’d ‘caused a stir’ in the inner circles. I was surprised, as the inside system of the organisation is pretty impenetrable.” Yukwon noticed the mark’s pleased smile at this, as if the killer had complimented him in some way.

Minhyuk shrugged, “I don’t work for anyone, but I have connections. Black Dragon’s Main Boss is actually my father.”

Yukwon tensed, hand clutching protectively around his gun. Black Dragon were his organization’s rivals, and the largest gang in the city. They specialised in emotional torture, in breaking down their victims slowly. Minhyuk had obviously had good training.

A pressing urgency was nagging at the back of the killers mind. As more and more information was revealed, the importance of this man’s death became clearer and clearer. If this man wasn’t eliminated, thousands of people in the city were in danger. Black Dragon weren’t really fussy about choosing their victims, they tended to just kill anyone who tried to stop them.

Suddenly Yukwon realised that his own death, just as much as Minhyuk’s, was important. There was no doubt that Black Dragon knew he was on Minhyuk’s case by now, and with a sickening lurch in his stomach, Yukwon realised that it was only a matter of time before they came after him.

He needed to act, he needed to make the hit.

Yukwon braced himself, and slowly raised the gun again. The barrel was aimed right in Minhyuk’s direction, pointing directly at the mark’s smirking face. This time, Minhyuk’s expression didn’t change into one of fear.

No sound left the mark’s mouth, but his eyebrow raised in challenge. Silently, he dared Yukwon, dared him to pull the trigger, dared him to end his life with one single bullet.

That was all it would take. One shot, and all of this trouble would be over. One shot, and he’d receive his most satisfying pay packet in months. Just one shot, and he’d never have to worry about this dangerously gorgeous man ever again.

But his arm was shaking, his focus everywhere but the gun. His finger hovered over the trigger, and with a start Yukwon realised that he didn’t even have the intention of pulling it.

This man was too good, he’d awakened feelings inside the hitman that he hadn’t previously thought he was capable of. Thoughts of pale skin juxtaposed against jet-black hair, of pretty red lips, expensive aftershave, and a tongue as sharp as a blade, raced across Yukwon’s mind. He realised that he couldn’t even kill him if he wanted to, that his brain simply thought far too much of the man in front of him to let him die by Yukwon’s hand.

He wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling that Minhyuk had noticed this, as his smirk grew a little more.

Another breath of silence, and Yukwon tried desperately to summon up every ounce of courage he possessed. He steeled himself again, set his finger on the trigger, and straightened his arm- to no avail.

“Is it always this hard, killing someone?” Minhyuk echoed the same words he’d uttered when the two had first met, and Yukwon suddenly realised that this had been his plan all along. His arm was beginning to hurt now, and Minhyuk began taking more steps forward. Fearlessly, he walked closer and closer to the barrel of the gun. 

Yukwon stood his ground, but when Minhyuk’s hand came up and gently pushed his arm down, the killer didn’t even attempt to stop him. The black-haired man came closer still, right into Yukwon’s personal space, but Yukwon couldn’t move. No, the realisation that he _couldn’t_ make the hit, that he had actually developed _feelings_ for another person, had him frozen to the spot.

Arms slid over his shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck, and Minhyuk smiled down at him.

“You can’t kill me.” The mark purred softly, gaze searching Yukwon relentlessly. The killer didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know how to feel, but when warm lips pressed against his, he didn’t hesitate to kiss back.

Yukwon felt like he was being torn apart, but in the nicest possible way. He felt like he was thinking too much, but not enough at the same time, like his body was alight with a fire he had no way to extinguish. Leaning into Minhyuk’s embrace, Yukwon felt the gun slip from his grip and clatter onto the floor, leaving his hands free to wind around the slim waist pressed against him.

This felt like flying, like jumping out of a plane with no parachute. It felt dangerous, poisonous, and miraculous. It felt perfect.

The boys fell against the wall, still kissing intensely, and neither noticed the door being opened a crack. Neither noticed the eyes fixed on them, and neither noticed when the figure whispered softly.

“I warned him.”


	9. The Problem

“Why? Why did he.. What is he doing?!” Zico exclaimed for what was possibly the hundredth time, head falling back against the sofa of the apartment he shared with Kyung. The other boy sighed, getting up and making his way over to the tiny kitchen area.

“Maybe this is the real thing, maybe ‘Kwon’s in love...” The shorter male mused, and Zico watched distractedly as Kyung reached into the cupboard for a mug, his shirt riding up slightly to expose a strip of skin. The blonde licked his lips subconsciously.

“But this is Yukwon we’re on about!” Zico stressed, replaying the scene he’d witnessed over and over in his head, trying to deduce some sort of motive or advantage it may hold. Unfortunately, all he seemed to work out was that Yukwon’s gun was left abandoned on the floor, and the killer was holding B-Bomb like he was the most precious thing on earth.

But there was no way Yukwon _loved_ him, right?

“Exactly. This sort of thing is extremely out of character for ‘Kwon. Therefore, something must have changed.” Kyung reasoned, busying himself with making his drink.

“So you’re saying that whilst on this case, Yukwon developed _feelings_ \- actual, human, non-murderer-like _feelings_.” Zico caught Kyung’s train of thought, cocking his head to the side. The shorter man nodded, and Zico pondered over this. It was possible, maybe even plausible, but, again, this was Yukwon they were on about.

“But he’s renown for killing for fun. For getting the order and striking, no questions asked. He cut off all ties with anyone outside the organisation and didn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for it, and now you think he’s _fallen in love_?” The more the blonde thought, the more confused he became.

“It’s not impossible, is it?” Kyung smiled slightly as he took a sip of his freshly-made coffee. “To find love in this organisation...”

Zico grinned when he realised Kyung was referring to themselves.

Zico and Kyung were living proof that love could be found whatever your occupation was. They’d met when Kyung had just been assigned to Zico’s division, and the blonde was supplying information about a mark. To say they’d instantly hit it off would be a lie; it took months of Kyung ignoring orders and Zico smacking him upside the head before they realised they were perfect for eachother.

And now there they were, sharing a comfortable-sized apartment and rarely seen without each other.

Zico couldn’t help but smile as the memories flooded back to him, before his face fell serious again. “No, it’s not impossible, but this mark isn’t from the organisation. He’s one of _them_.”

People rarely called the Black Dragon gang by its name, too afraid of the consequences if they did.

“I know.” Kyung bit his lip worriedly, “But... Do you really have to kill him? Is there no way around it?”

Zico shook his head solemnly, “I’m afraid I do. We were given strict orders to find him and eliminate him- that he was a danger to far too many people to be left alive.” The blonde knew that Kyung was only looking out for his friend, but he really couldn’t disobey these demands. “Kyung, who knows how many people will die if we fail at this?”

The shorter man sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter with a frown.

“But ‘Kwon... If he really is in love...” He trailed off, staring miserably down into his drink. Zico noticed this and pushed himself up off the couch, making his way over to Kyung.

“I know, but... people die in this job, right? We got ourselves into this.” Zico reasoned, before his mouth twisted into a half-hearted smile. “Besides, the worst that’ll happen is we’ll have a sulking killer on our hands for a few weeks, before he’ll be his old unfeeling self again.”

Kyung mirrored his smile, but it never reached his eyes. They both knew this was a lie.

People like Yukwon aren’t impulsive; they’re calculating, mindful, careful people. Yukwon must have thought over his feelings for a while before deciding that B-Bomb was someone _worth_ falling in love with, and that’s the thought that scared the couple the most. The feeling had to be powerful for it to register so strongly in the killer's brain, so if the object of that feeling is murdered, there’s no saying what Yukwon would do.

Hitmen were known for being very drastic people, after all.

But, on the contrary, if the Bosses got wind of this, they would all be in trouble. **Big** trouble. The assassination order was given so severely that Zico knew at least one person would lose their life if this went tits up. That person was almost guaranteed to be Yukwon, but if they found out that Zico failed as well, he might just be joining him.

Kyung set his mug down and pulled his boyfriend into him, curling his arms around Zico’s waist. The blonde held Kyung’s head against his chest as they shared one of their rare moments of intimacy.

“You have to do it, don’t you. B-Bomb has to die.” Kyung admitted sullenly, muttering the words against the fabric of Zico’s shirt.

“He does.” Zico replied softly, his mind already racing about how to assassinate the mark. He had to be careful, not like any of his other victims. He delighted in torturing them, in seeing their red faces tear-streaked and screaming before he finally put an end to their pitiful existence. But not this one. No matter how much the Bosses of the organisation seemed to hate B-Bomb, Zico had already made up his mind to commit the hit in an almost humane way. That way, he may just be spared the wrath of a grieving hitman.

When Zico pulled away, he noticed Kyung was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, head cocked thoughtfully to the side. This was Kyung’s ‘idea’ face. Zico tapped his boyfriend’s chin gently.

“What?” He smirked, and Kyung looked up at him with a small smile.

“There’s nothing saying we can’t warn ‘Kwon first... right?”

 

\-------

 

It seemed to be a thing for Minhyuk and Yukwon to revisit the places where they met. Minhyuk had lead the killer back to the park, where they’d talked for the second time, and the two were sat on a sun-warmed bench just revelling in each other’s company.

Sometimes they talked- about Minhyuk’s life, a bit about Yukwon’s past, but mostly they just enjoyed the fact that neither was trying to attack the other for the first time.

Despite the kiss earlier, they remained at a chaste distance from each other. Yukwon couldn’t tell if it was because Minhyuk was secretly awkward, or they were both just trying to keep their hands of each other in a public place. Either way, Yukwon felt himself blushing like a schoolgirl every time Minhyuk’s leg accidentally brushed against his.

They were silent for a few minutes, the air around them comfortable, before Yukwon turned to the black-haired boy.

“Why me?”

Minhyuk thought for a second, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Yukwon shrugged. “You’ve had people attempt to kill you before. Did you break down their defenses too?”

Secretly, Yukwon was scared. Secretly, he had a nagging sense that Minhyuk was only doing this to save himself from getting killed. That Yukwon's feelings were not reciprocated, that the touches and kisses were all an act.

Minhyuk calmed these worries slightly with a shake of his head.

“No. I usually got one of Black Dragon’s hitmen to eliminate them when I found out they’d been sent on my case.” He shrugged nonchalantly, and Yukwon cocked his head to the side.

“What was different about me?”

A chuckle escaped Minhyuk’s throat, and for the first time it sounded _warm_ , friendly, genuinely amused. This sent a subconscious smile curling at Yukwon’s lips.

“Oh Yukwon, there are a lot of things different about you.” He began, a lazy smile adorning his face. The killer waited for him to elaborate. “I wanted to meet you once to see what you were like. That’s why I went to the coffee shop that day, after I knew you’d been sent to kill me. I saw you sat there in the corner, all dark and brooding with your shock of red hair, and... well... you really _interested_ me.”

Yukwon raised an eyebrow. “Interested you how?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were beautiful.” His hand ventured onto Yukwon’s knee, palm warm through the denim of his jeans. The killer smiled at this information. “And I felt the need to know more about you. I was kind of sad when I remembered you were actually there to kill me, though I knew you wouldn't be making the hit for a while." Minhyuk smirked. "You don’t realise how hard it was to seduce you, Mr. Killer."

The two fell silent again as Yukwon pondered over this.

Minhyuk thought he was beautiful. That's all his brain had really caught. Minhyuk was the embodiment of everything perfection could be, and here he was calling _Yukwon_ beautiful.

Minhyuk noticed the killer's smile, and his hand moved off his knee to catch Yukwon's. He laced their fingers together, and for a second, Yukwon forgot how to breathe.

A buzzing in his pocket jolted him back to reality, and he curiously took out his phone. Who on earth would be texting him? The only people who had his number were Minhyuk and a few members of the organisation...

His heart sank when he saw it was from Zico, and sank even further when he read the message.

_'I'm so sorry Yukwon, but you've left me with no choice.'_

Zico had warned the killer; told him that any more 'incidents' with Minhyuk and he'd go after the mark himself.

And somehow, Zico had seen them earlier.

He turned to Minhyuk with wide, frantic eyes, and the black-haired boy frowned in concern. Yukwon didn't give him an explanation, no, there was no time for that.

"We have to go. Now."


	10. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update, since this wasn't updated in like, a year. Apologies.

This was where both boys’ instincts kicked in.

Armed with only Yukwon’s gun and the knife Minhyuk had confiscated from the killer, the two kept to the small side streets and alleyways as they made their passage through the city.

The organisation had eyes everywhere. Zico was in charge of an entire division of footsoldiers and spies, stationed at various high-risk points in the city. Yukwon was constantly on the lookout for vaguely familiar faces that he may have seen in passing at organisation meetings, but was finding it more difficult than he should have. He’d never bothered taking the time to look before, never cared who the other members of the organisation were. Yukwon was more of a ‘search and destroy’ kind of guy, who asked no questions and expected no answers.

This was proving to be a serious disadvantage.

“How quickly does your ‘Zico’ usually take action?” Minhyuk whispered to him when they stopped to catch their breath. The killer shrugged.

“He doesn’t kill straight away, but he tends to watch his victims first. He finds out things about them that could be used to make their death that much more horrible. Zico could be anywhere by now.” Yukwon grimaced, pushing himself off the alleyway wall and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He studied the device, before shutting it off.

“Why do people use these?” He sighed, “They’re basically tracking devices.”

The phone made a satisfying crash as it collided with the wall opposite.

Yukwon turned to Minhyuk to see him studying his own phone, but with a more thoughtful gaze. The killer tilted his head in question as Minhyuk looked up at him.

“Maybe they can be useful.” He shrugged. Yukwon watched him warily.

“How?”

Minhyuk pressed a few buttons on his phone, before making his way to the entrance of the alley. “Watch and learn.”

The killer observed as the black-haired man walked casually into the street. He stood there, glancing at his phone as if indecisive for a moment, before a woman carrying a shopping bag obstructed Yukwon’s view of Minhyuk for a second. When she had passed, Minhyuk calmly strolled back into the alley, hands empty.

He really _was_ clever. Yukwon berated himself for not thinking of doing that sooner. Connect the device to the internet, then plant it on some unsuspecting person. Anyone with a tracker on the phone would be lead in completely the wrong direction, until the civilian discovered that they were now in possession of a random device and turned it off.

It was only temporary, but it would do for now.

“Smart.” He smiled as Minhyuk reached him, and the gorgeous man smirked.

“Thanks.”

Then, they were on the move again, keeping mostly silent. Minhyuk lead their little expedition, though he never told Yukwon just where they were headed to. The two just kept walking, and walking, and sometimes running when passing particularly dangerous spots, and walking more. The wind was biting and cold as it whipped through the streets, causing Yukwon’s eyes to water and obscuring his view. They kept to the furthest side of the pavements, almost pressed up against the shops.

Every now and again, they ducked into doorways to reassess their situation. They knew they were being over cautious, yes, but Minhyuk's life was on the line. It was always better to be safe, than dead.

Suddenly, they arrived outside a large, shiny building at the other side of town. At least, Yukwon thought they’d arrived, as Minhyuk’s pace slowed as he reached the entrance. Surprisingly, though, the black-haired man continued walking all the way to the far side of the building. He paused as he reached a wrought-iron gate, and turned back to grin at Yukwon. The killer glanced behind them, scanning the street for unwanted followers, before Minhyuk pulled him forward by the hand and darted through the gate.

They kept as quiet as they could, clambering up the metal stairs of the fire escape. Minhyuk’s grip was strong, his hand warm and comforting in Yukwon’s, and when they reached the desired floor neither had the intention of letting go.

“In here.” Minhyuk hissed as he swiftly unlocked a set of sliding doors, leading Yukwon through them.

The killer stopped as he entered the room, staring about himself in awe. They were in an apartment, but one that contrasted directly with Yukwon’s own. While his was old and dirty, cluttered with junk that he couldn’t be bothered to remove, this apartment was large and spacious, with thick carpets and modern furniture. Every surface was sparkling clean, not a speck of dust or grime about the place. Yukwon turned to Minhyuk to find the taller man watching him with what could almost be called _affection_.

"You like it?" Minhyuk smirked. Yukwon returned back to gazing in rapture.

"It's huge." He stated the obvious, but that thought was still processing through his brain. It really was ginormous, all wide open spaces and half-walls. Minhyuk let out a light laugh.

"I feel it's a bit too big for one man, sometimes." Minhyuk sighed dramatically, before dropping himself down onto the leather sofa. Yukwon balked at him.

"This is _your_ apartment?"

"I thought that was a given." Minhyuk grinned, glancing back at the killer with an eyebrow raised.

Yukwon was in shock. He's known Minhyuk was rich, but somehow he didn't quite expect the other man's living space to be quite this luxurious. Snapping out of his daze, he shrugged and wandered over to sit next to Minhyuk.

When he realised something.

"We're technically on the run, and you've lead us back to your apartment." He stated, realising the absurdity. That goddamn cocky smirk drifted onto Minhyuk's face again, and Yukwon realised that he'd almost missed it. The black-haired man chuckled as if his reasoning was obvious.

"What you don't realise is that no one- not even my own father- realises I live here. I have to have _some_ life away from that suffocating establishment he calls a 'gang'."

In the pit of his stomach, Yukwon felt a strange sense of pride in the face that _he_ was the first person Minhyuk had allowed inside this flat.

"And you're confident no one will find you here?" Yukwon checked, and relaxed when the other boy nodded firmly.

The killer slumped into the couch next to Minhyuk, flinging an arm over his eyes.

"When did this become my life?" He groaned. A few days ago, he was firmly in the knowledge that this man was going to die, and he'd just receive the money and go on with his life. Now, he was attempting to prevent said man, whom he realised he liked too much to kill, from the wrath of the Underboss.

Soft fingertips brushed over his arm, pulling it gently away from his eyes. He came literally face-to-face with a grinning Minhyuk.

“You can’t complain, though. It’s exciting.”

Minhyuk’s hands slid to his shoulders, and the killer smiled faintly. The black-haired man carefully kneeled either side of Yukwon’s thighs, and the killer allowed his hands to secure themselves on Minhyuk’s hips.

“How are you so calm? Your life is on the line here” Yukwon asked, tilting his head upwards to look the other man in the eye. Minhyuk slid one hand down to Yukwon’s chest.

“My life has been on the line for months.”

“But it’s not me, this time. It’s someone even more dangerous.” The killer smoothed the material of Minhyuk’s shirt between his fingers as the other man leant forward into his personal space.

Warm breath hitting Yukwon’s cheeks, Minhyuk replied with a smile, “I’m not scared.”

Yukwon chuckled, “That’s because you’re an idiot who doesn’t see death as a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing,” Minhyuk protested, tilting his head to the side, “I just have confidence in my ability to stay alive.”

“Cocky bastard.” The killer smiled, a tenderness beneath the words, and the black-haired boy smirked before pressing his lips to Yukwon’s.

Yukwon kissed back hesitantly, basking in the feeling of soft, sweet lips on his and a body so comfortably pressed against him.

Suddenly, Minhyuk froze his actions. Worry flashed through the killer’s brain as Minhyuk pulled away, eyes wide. Wordlessly, the black-haired man got up and padded over to the glass-fronted doors the two had entered through minutes before. Yukwon spotted a frown grace his features as he looked out over the street.

Curious, Yukwon came up behind him, interested at what had caused such a sudden mood change in Minhyuk.

What he saw was around 10 men, dressed in all black, storming down the street below. They looked angry, the hard lines and frowns could be seen even from the distance the two were at. Not really understanding, the killer turned to Minhyuk with a raised eyebrow. The black-haired man was still wide eyed, and he swallowed visibly. Yukwon started to panic- never before had he seen Minhyuk this unsettled.

“They’ve found out about you. Black Dragon.” Minhyuk’s voice was hoarse as he finally spoke, as if all the moisture had left his mouth. Yukwon’s jaw dropped open. Minhyuk grabbed the killers hand urgently, continuing.

“They’re coming to kill you.”


	11. The Panic

For a few days, all was calm.

No more gangsters stormed through the streets below, no one tried contacting them, and no human approached the apartment building.

For some reason, this was worse than being on the run. For some reason, this was worse than gun fights.

Some part of Yukwon marvelled at the whole domesticity of the situation; living with Minhyuk in his palace of a flat, sharing his house, his food, his facilities. Yukwon hadn't cohabited with anyone since he'd moved out of his parents' house, so being constantly this close this close to a man he was comfortably _intimate_ with kind of shocked his system.

But the fear was always there, a nagging sense of perpetual panic that refused to go away. _Both of their lives were in danger_ \- Yukwon made sure he didn't forget that, otherwise the calming lull of domestic life might have convinced his brain that he was safe, that he had nothing to worry about.

Yukwon made the most of it, though. The apartment only provided temporary cover, both boys knew that, but they made sure to enjoy to silence while it lasted. The television was constantly on, kept at a low volume to fill the serene flat with a constant, comforting hum of noise, and the men's days were spent plotting and planning on the best ways to maintain their survival.

Yukwon and Minhyuk grew closer, too, as people living together tend to do. Small, chaste kisses soon turned into longer, searching ones. Wandering hands got uses to the curves and planes of each other's body, brains used to the comfort and sheer sensation of affection. When they fell, kissing languidly, onto Minhyuk's bed at the end of the day, neither pushed the other into anything further. It was more gentle coaxing, following the natural progress of their relationship.

For a few days, all was calm.

But not for long.

Things began taking a turn for the worst when they ran out of food. The flat's food supply was diminished enough when they arrived ( _"I'm hardly ever here. It's big and empty, and I get lonely."_ ), but a few days in it was practically nonexistent. Two men couldn't survive on packet soup alone, so that meant one of them had to leave the apartment to go shopping.

Yukwon argued that he was trained in this sort of thing, in keeping out of sight, but no matter how much he protested, Minhyuk was just not letting him leave.

"You don't know Black Dragon like I do. They'll be on you as soon as you step onto the street." Minhyuk frowned, hand moving to Yukwon's shoulder as he tilted his head meaningfully. The killer frowned.

"You seriously don't think I'm letting _you_ go out there!" Yukwon shook his head, and Minhyuk shrugged

"I'll be fine." The other man dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand, but Yukwon wasn't convinced.

"There's a reason Zico's the leader, there's a reason he's feared even inside the organisation. I'm seriously not letting you out of my sight while he's looking for you." Yukwon enforce his point by circling his arms around Minhyuk's neck, and the black-haired man's hands slid down to his waist.

"Yukwon, It won't take long. I'll be in and out of the store before anyone even sees me. I promise."

Minhyuk was stubborn, there was no denying that, and Yukwon grumbled as he buried his face in the taller man's shoulder. Minhyuk held the killer close, smoothing his hands soothingly over the other's back.

"Be safe, please. For me." Yukwon muttered, lifting his head to look Minhyuk in the eye. Minhyuk smiled softly, before leaning in and catching Yukwon's lips in a soft kiss.

"I will." He replied, lips brushing the killers' as he spoke. He pulled back and smiled again, "I'll do anything for you."

Yukwon tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered at this, and took to punching the other lightly in the shoulder for being too cheesy. Minhyuk chuckled, before stepping back to grab his jacket off the hook by the door.

"I'll be back before you know it." Minhyuk winked, and Yukwon sighed as he headed over to the kitchen area.

"Yeah, yeah, just stay alert." He warned again, and Minhyuk left through the glass doors with a short laugh.

 

\-------

 

Zico stormed into the apartment with a growl as the door slammed shut, pacing over to the couch and throwing himself down heavily. Kyung, roused by the noise, went to see what was up with his boyfriend.

“Still no sign?” The shorter male asked warily, carefully approaching his scowling partner. Zico threw his head back against the couch cushions, exasperated.

“It’s like they’ve both just disappeared off the face of the Earth. No one knows anything about B-Bomb’s previous locations or area of residence or anything.” The blonde sighed, and Kyung hesitantly sat next to him. “It’s just so frustrating! I knew Yukwon would do a runner once we warned him, but I expected B-Bomb to be too careless and inconsiderate to bother. Now we’ve lost both our hitman, and an extremely dangerous mark.”

Kyung let his hand fall to Zico’s thigh, and smoothed the denim of his jeans comfortingly. “Zico, we’re one of the top organisations in the entire country. No one can escape from us, even if they know the best places to hide. It may take a little longer, but we will find them.”

Soothed slightly by his partner’s words, Zico lifted his head and smiled tiredly at the smaller man. “I know, Kyung. I just get impatient when things get drawn out longer than I want them to. The case has gone on for far too long already, and I don’t want the Bosses to start asking questions.”

Suddenly, Kyung thought of something. He paused, before speaking quietly. “Do you... Maybe your heart’s not really in it? That’s why you can’t find them?”

Zico’s face fell, turning to face Kyung sharply, and the shorter man immediately regretted opening his mouth.

“I don’t care about this goddamn mark, if that’s what you’re implying. That’s Yukwon’s job. I just need to find him and kill him before things get out of hand.”

Kyung shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m talking about Kwon here. Maybe hunting a member of your own organisation goes against your loyalty?”

“I’m not hunting Yukwon, I’m hunting B-Bomb.” Zico tilted his head to the side, the words drawn out as if Kyung was slow and didn’t really understand. The older man frowned.

“Come on, Zico. We both know that wherever B-Bomb is hiding, Kwon is sure to be too.”

Zico sat and thought for a moment, and when his gaze met Kyung’s for the second time, the smaller man physically shivered at the coldness held there.

“My loyalty to the organisation as a whole far surpasses my loyalty to one man. I don’t desire to, but if killing B-Bomb means killing Yukwon as well, then I’ll have no choice.”

Kyung gasped. “Zico...but... Kwon...”

The coldness shifted slightly, replaced by the defiance Kyung knew all too well. Gently, Zico slid an arm around Kyung’s waist.

“We could both die if this doesn’t happen.” Zico’s tone was serious, but Kyung refused to back down.

“There has to be a way of getting B-Bomb away from Yukwon. There has to be. They aren’t inseparable.”

Zico studied his partners face, biting his lip, and Kyung could almost hear his brain working. After a few seconds of tense silence, the beginnings of a smile curled at the edges of Zico’s mouth.

“I may just have an idea...”

 

\-------

 

Never before in his life had Minhyuk found grocery shopping a particularly difficult task, but it was completely different when he knew someone was out there chasing him down. Every step was taken with caution, every move made with precision and awareness that at any time, he could be ambushed and killed.

It took longer than he’d expected it to, but soon the shopping was completed, and he was free to make the trek back to the apartment. As much as he loved this new little intimacy with Yukwon, as much as he loved spending time with the beautiful man, he hated feeling constantly on edge. Minhyuk hated the feeling that even his fathers gang weren’t there to protect him this time, that he no longer just had himself to protect any more. He didn’t admit it, not even fully to himself, but he was actually afraid of anything happening to Yukwon. Minhyuk had never felt this way about _anyone_ before, so the realisation that something bad might happen to Yukwon sent terror clouding his mind.

That’s why he hurried back to the flat. His brain refused to let him leave the killer alone for too long, just in case something terrible occurred.

The first thing he noticed upon arrival was that the gate to the fire escape was open, swinging leisurely in the breeze. Briefly, he wondered if he’d been careless enough not to shut it when he left. The second thing he noticed was that the air seemed different, and that there were small scratches in the railing under his palm. A sense of foreboding rose inside him as he stopped to examine the grooves in the paint, brushing his fingers over them.

Against his better judgement, he dismissed this as him being over-cautious, and continued on his way up to the apartment. 

The third thing really didn’t need noticing. The glass doors were wide open, and without even thinking, Minhyuk rushed inside.

One word flashed through his mind as he entered the flat. One word, like a mantra, repeated itself in his brain like an alarm clock as he tore through the apartment, checking room after room for the killer.

Suddenly, he reached the bedroom, and the word began echoing louder in his ears, competing for volume with his pounding heart. The room was trashed- bedcovers ripped and strewn around, the desk upturned, and the curtains tugged off the rail. Minhyuk ran forward towards the bed, not caring about the shards of glass littering the floor from the shattered mirror. Once there, he stopped abruptly, and a flood of panic rushed over him.

He felt sick, his mind hazy and his gaze unfocused. There was no sign of the man Minhyuk had grown to love so much, and there, on the bed, was a small stain of what looked an awful lot like blood. A small object lay a few inches to the left, and with shaking fingers, Minhyuk lifted it up to get a closer look.

He gulped, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as his body went cold with terror. It was a ring, just a plain silver band, but engraved in the centre was a symbol that was all too familiar to his eyes.

A dragon.

Minhyuk’s knees collapsed, and he sunk to the floor beside the bed. He’d been careless, he’d left him alone, and now this had happened. He gripped his head in anguish as the full force of what might have possibly taken place here struck him suddenly, and his brain began shouting the one-word mantra deafeningly loud.

_Yukwon..._


	12. The Kidnap

It was dark, and Yukwon wasn’t entirely sure he was awake. His body felt numb, almost unimaginably cold, and he wasn’t sure whether his eyes were open or not.

Sounds floated into his consciousness from somewhere around him, but his brain was too fuzzy, his head to heavy, and thinking seemed an impossible task to do, so he just didn’t. Yukwon didn’t know if he was dreaming and hearing the small noises in his head, or whether they were actually emitting from wherever he was.

That was a good point. Where _was_ he?

That thought brought everything into clear focus when he realised he couldn’t remember, and he gasped in pain as he suddenly became aware of his limbs.

This was too much. Something was obstructing his legs and wrists, and his arms were twisted painfully behind his back, jarring his shoulder blades. His neck felt weak, unable to support the head that suddenly seemed too heavy, and he couldn’t pinpoint the exact location where his skull felt like it was cracked, but it definitely was.

His whole body ached, his skin stinging in places too numerous to count. Every limb felt like it had been torn from the joint before being pushed roughly back into place, and that wasn’t even the worst part. There was a horrifying feeling of liquid trickling down his chest, and from the cluster of pain around his collar bones and upper chest, it wasn’t exactly difficult to tell just what it was.

Yukwon forced his swollen eyelids open despite the searing pain, and blinked back the tears that had formed from the agony his body was in. Suddenly, he realised he was face-to-face with a video camera.

That’s when he remembered what had happened.

 

_He was flicking through the notepad of plans him and Minhyuk had formulated, crossed out and half-finished, when a subtle noise caught his ear.  
He immediately held his breath, senses honing in on that one small sound. Suddenly, it happened again, and this time Yukwon was pretty sure it was **footsteps**._

_Minhyuk wouldn’t be home yet- he’d barely left- so Yukwon’s brain immediately jumped to the next scenario._

_An intruder._

_The footsteps grew in volume, and no matter how much Yukwon wished that they’d just stop and he’d put the occurrence down to a trick of his paranoid imagination, they just kept on coming._

_Now, he wasn’t stupid, he knew what to do in this situation, but his views conflicted. Two different solutions presented themselves, but they were drastically contradicting._

_Number one- protect his own life._

_Number two- protect Minhyuk’s._

_He made a spur of the moment decision, desperately hoped it was the right one, and slowly lifted his gun from the side table._

_When the black-masked man appeared in the doorway, the safety catch was clicked off and the gun pointed directly at his leather-clothed chest. Upon seeing the hitman, the intruder took a step forward, hand reaching to the holster on his belt._

_"Well what do we have here?" The man's voice was scratchy and piercing, and Yukwon did everything he could to refrain from flinching at his tone. Remaining silent, the killer stood his ground as the intruder took out his own gun, aiming it at Yukwon like this was some sort of face-off._

_One more step forward. The muffled thump of heavy boots on carpet. Yukwon's heart was in his throat._

_"I had it from a reliable source that one **B-Bomb** lived in this flat." The man stated, half-threatening, half-curious. Briefly, Yukwon scanned the room._

_No signs of possession; he could proceed with his plan._

_"B-Bomb? What a ridiculous name. No one called that has EVER lived here." The hitman's voice was regulated and steady, oozing indifference and confidence like he'd been trained to do. The intruder cocked his head, expression hidden behind the plain black mask covering all but his eyes._

_"Is that so?" The intruder looked around the room accusingly, but seemed to falter when nothing alerted him to Minhyuk's presence. Then, he turned his accusatory glare towards Yukwon._

_"Who are YOU? And who do you work for?"_

_Because, understandably, not everyone fearlessly aims a gun at an unexpected intruder. Yukwon decided to grace him with an answer._

_"Yukwon, and I work for no one. I'm not into this gang shit any more." This was where the lie began. His answers had to hint at wealth- this flat, in his tale, was **his**._

_The masked man then followed the next obvious point of action, which was to gesture towards Yukwon's gun in a silent question._

_"What, this?" Yukwon twitched the cold metal in his palm, and the intruder nodded. "Got it when I worked the drug trade a few years back. I told ya though, I'm not into the gang shit any more."_

_The tension in the air was almost tangible as the man took time to ponder this answer. Finally, he took another slow pace forward and raised his other hand to the gun, steadying it._

_"Unlucky for you, then. Gang shit is what you're gonna get."_

_Yukwon tensed, braced himself. He was ready for this. He knew that even if he feigned no connection, they would kill him anyway because he still **knew too much** about their precious gang. Slowly, he lowered his own gun._

_Saving Minhyuk's life was drastically different to saving his own, but at least in this one their story had a proper ending. At least in this one, Minhyuk had a chance of being free, even if that meant losing Yukwon in the process._

_He tensed his shoulders and waited for the shot._

_One_

_He closed his eyes briefly as the safety catch was flicked off._

_Two._

_In his minds eye, he envisioned the half-forgotten faces of his parents, the worried expression of his best friend at their last encounter, and every single moment he'd spent with Minhyuk._

_Three._

_He saw tanned, smooth skin behind his eyelids, smouldering eyes and hair so soft and dark. Yukwon was a hitman- he knew dying wasn't pretty, but maybe envisioning something glorious as you died would ease the pain a bit._

_Go._

_He heard the click of the trigger as it was pulled back, and blindly took what he hoped was a defiant step forwards._

_Oh well, he wouldn't really be leaving anything behind, anyway._

_The shot was fired._

_There was a crash over the explosion of the gunpowder, and Yukwon heard the mirror next to him break at a deafeningly loud volume. His eyes shot open to find the man pocketing the gun, having fired just to Yukwon's right, and another daunting intruder rushed into the room._

_Nothing made sense, and Yukwon's only thought at this moment was to escape._

_He darted forwards, but his hand-to-hand combat skills were hardly up to Black Dragon standard. One powerful right-hook to his jaw threw him off balance, pain shooting through the nerves of his face as he desperately tried to punch the assailant in return. His fists landed uselessly on thick leather as the first intruder jumped back in defence, before using his large hands to shove Yukwon backwards._

_The back of his knees hit the bed and he staggered back, falling gracelessly onto the mattress. Instantly, the two men were onto him._

_Yukwon kicked and scratched like a feral cat as one of them tried to grab his hands. He arched his back, trying with all his might to get up from the defenceless lying position he was in, but the second intruder pinned him there._

_A hand covered his mouth, which was a big mistake on their part, as Yukwon carelessly bit into it as hard as he could._

_"Bitch!" The man screamed, eyes wide, and Yukwon watched as he frowned at the puncture wounds and wiped the blood off casually on the mattress_

_However, the hitman had completely forgotten to pay attention to the other gang member, and a hard blow to the head with the butt of a handgun nearly rendered him unconscious._

_His eyes hazed over as pain bloomed in his skull, threatening to overwhelm his senses, and he kicked weakly one more time before the blow landed again and he was engulfed in a slow, fuzzy, painful darkness._

 

Wincing at the memory, Yukwon decided to put any further thinking to the side for the moment, until he'd properly assessed the extent of the physical damage.

Movement was severely restricted, but a quick flex of his fingers and toes assured him that nothing was broken in those areas. A slight shift of his shoulder blades sent shooting pains sparking down his spine, focusing on places he could't even remember being hit.

They must have been hard at work while he was out for the count.

One small glance down confirmed that a large gash adorned his right collarbone, newly-drawn blood still weeping from the cut. More small grazes were littered over his abdomen, and Yukwon couldn't even think of how they might have been caused.

That's when he noticed that the small noises in the room had stopped, and he quickly returned his eyes to the video camera staring him in the face just as a voice boomed through the room.

"You're a fucking liar."


End file.
